


living water

by burnsidesjulia



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, i wanted More Magnus, post refuge pre suffering game, remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:09:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14250813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burnsidesjulia/pseuds/burnsidesjulia
Summary: That statue of the red robe, his own toothy smile shining back at him in the form of rocks, stones carved as bone. He considers this, and like clockwork his brain goes fuzzy. He stops thinking about it.lucretia let them keep certain things. and after saving june, certain things come back.





	living water

He flips fretfully in his bed. His body feels thick, heavy with sorrow. Dying a dozen or so times in Refuge left him with a sourness in his stomach, an ache that feels like radio static. He can’t figure out why.

Next to him, on his pillow, he’s laid the tube June gave him. That statue of the red robe, his own toothy smile shining back at him in the form of rocks, stones carved as bone. He considers this, and like clockwork his brain goes fuzzy. He stops thinking about it. He considers waking Taako or Merle, telling them what he’s seen, but decides against it. How could they understand when even he doesn’t?

He flips again. The mattress springs protest beneath his massive weight. He goes to sleep.

And Magnus dreams.

He’s sitting in an audience. His hands are holding something small and wooden- a duck. Delicately carved, lopsided in places. He feels such strong attachment to it. It’s not perfect, he thinks, clear as day. But it’s the best I could do.

There’s static next. Two people, both faceless, standing on a stage. Bowing. They don’t stop holding hands. They don’t stop holding hands. Magnus feels his own cheeks; they’re wet. Crying? Is he crying? The figures bow again. He cheers with all his might, tears still spilling. They don’t stop holding hands. He wakes up, and is sick over the side of his bed.

-

Magnus is training with Killian. She’s wrestling him down, using her large orcish body for all it’s worth. Magnus is failing, but he knows better than to give up so easily. He smiles, toothy, and Killian seems to miss his sudden optimism. She comes speeding toward him, her braid whipping in her wake and Magnus ducks under her, uses her weight to flip her over his shoulders.

And then, it isn't Killian he's flipping anymore.

A bear is charging him. The world around him is static; he can’t see the floor, can’t see the sky, can’t see anything. The image is jarring, horrific. He ducks, shifts his weight and the bear flies over his shoulders with a massive heave upward. It hits the ground somewhere beyond what he can see. Something in the near distance roars, and speaks in a tidal wave of static.

“Hey- Hey Magnus? Magnus are you- You alright?” He’s being grabbed by his shoulders, shaken. He opens his eyes to a world where the ground exists. Killian’s brow is creased, her lip caught under a massive tooth. She sighs, relieved, as he peers back at her. “Jeez- you scared me, buddy.” She punches him in the shoulder. “That was a good move. Don’t go soft on me now, Mags. Keep it up.” She stands away from him and, it sounds like, turns on Carey, unsuspecting.

Magnus blinks up at the fluorescent lights of the training arena. That static still buzzes like an insistent honeybee at the back of his mind.

-

Taako casts fireball on an ogre that Lucretia set on them.

Lucretia has been strange lately. All touch and go, no softness, no leniency. She’s toughened. Magnus’ brain supplies, _she used to be like that, too,_ and he has no idea what he’s even thinking. He’s only known Lucretia for a year. Lucretia was never like anything to him but a boss.

They’re fighting this ogre, one of the same types from their initiation, and Taako casts fireball. The blast comes out, stronger than usual and massive, and Magnus nearly falls to his knees on the spot.

The world is ending.

Pillars of static are falling from above, spreading into pools at the bottom. The sky is grey dark with rustling patterns of squares and dots and the sound of rushing water, and he’s surrounded by figures. Some are so close he can almost make out faces. Some are nothing more than a wave of silence. It's the end of the world, he keeps thinking. It's the end of the world again.

And then Magnus is running away from something, swinging his axe wildly at a shape made of static. He’s running through nothingness, toward nothingness, from nothingness. All he can see is a monotonous rush of black, white, grey. The vision makes him very nearly sick. But someone, someone casts fireball in a voice that sounds like wind blowing by, but still so close to familiar that it makes his heart ache.

And a pillar of the static explodes into red, brilliant red fire, and the sight is so jarring that he stops for a moment. The figure that cast it rushes toward him, embraces him. He can feel it, but the feeling is pins and needles. He’s not meant to be feeling this.

He walks into static. Static greets him. Static surrounds him.

Someone, something, with a voice like a hand on velvet says, “We’re really fucking close.”

-

Magnus flips fretfully in his bed. Dying isn’t a sensation he likes. It is one that feels oddly familiar. It pricks at his skin like Carey’s scales, or the tip of a sword. A splinter.

He watches Steven swim in his ball. He circles, circles, blows a bubble. Seems to watch Magnus as he goes in circles, too. Magnus sighs. There’s this incessant push on his brain that says he’s seen it all before.

Magnus doesn’t remember closing his eyes.

He sees a tank. Something heavy sinks into it, paper scattering out of it. He looks down at his own hands. A duck, patterned with static. There’s something about it he cannot see. He doesn’t want to see.

The heavy object hits the bottom of the tank, and Magnus sees two shadows. A body and a blob. The blob pulls the object to it. The body turns to him. He doesn't, can't recognize it, but is so close to knowing it that his heart pounds. “Please just lie down,” it says with a mouthful of dead air. Magnus blinks. He feels betrayed. He doesn't understand. “I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. I love you, Magnus," it says. He loves it too. What is this? Who?

"I love all of you," it continues, its voice spotty. "I’m sorry. It’ll be over soon.” The voice is hardly real anymore. None of this can be real. The things that were moments ago static turn to black, and he sees nothing. Magnus wakes, body hot but in a cold sweat. He wonders if he truly slept. His head is swimming.

He wanders down the bureau hallways, aimless and heartsick. He finds his way to the voidfish’s tank, and it spins in place, sings its seven note song. Magnus places a hand on the cool glass.

The voidfish places a tendril on the glass, too. And for some reason he cannot explain, Magnus feels better.

**Author's Note:**

> listen.. i love magnus. i know this in no way works with canon but i dont care. magnus is my Man-gnus
> 
> hit me up on tumblr either @rilexander or @twelvesided, my d&d blog.
> 
> kudos are appreciated but comments, please. even if you just say 'nice'. comments keep writers going.


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